Marble Halls
by mladybug1211
Summary: Prince Darius always tried to do his best, though sometimes doing his best came from strange habits, with disastrous results. But in the royal court, danger lurks in the air, and Darius knows it's only a matter of time before betrayal strikes, and he's determined to claim his crown.
1. Chapter 1

The winter was supposed to be the worst one in years, or at least that's what her nighttime lovers claimed when they tried to buy her and take her to their homes. She was a fool to remain at the lowly den where she slaved away, a fool for dreaming of becoming more.

Inside the den, really it was more of a dark tavern on the outskirts of Drylliad, the haze of incense and sin had become too stifling. She needed air, clean air. A reminder that she was worth more than what she was paid.

The winter air bit her skin, her ragged red dress did nothing to help her.

Maybe if she closed her eyes, she'd slip away from her horrid life.

Forever.

"Are you cold miss?"

What was that? Was somebody speaking to her? She cracked open an eye to stare at the handsome young rich boy before her. He'd surely offer her a pretty penny for a moment of pleasure.

Receiving any form of sympathy was a foreign concept to her, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you cold? That dress of yours doesn't seem very warm," The young nobleman before her was already taking off his fine cloak, far before she could've gotten out a simple 'I'm fine.'

The truth was, she was cold. The charitable young man draped his cloak around her shoulders, "I can't keep this, my lord. I don't take currency in the form of clothing."

The nobleman chuckled, "I'm not paying you for anything. You looked cold, I merely hoped to come across as a decent man. Here."

He held out a hand to her, but it took several moments before she dared take it. The young nobleman pulled her up from her place on the snow-sprinkled cobblestones. The cloak did do more than just keep out the cold. For a moment, she was more than just a street whore. The hazy eyes that studied her weren't trying to imagine her pinned against a mattress, or maybe they were.

Men could be so confusing.

"What's your name?" He asked, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. It was clear: he was only looking for a form of pleasure. The nobleman steered them away from the den.

"Does that really matter?"

"Considering that I'm short of friends and that I'd very much like to be your friend, knowing your name is very important to me."

She began to laugh, though her bitter humor came to a screeching halt as she began to violently cough, "Friends with a girl like me? I'm sorry sir, but it's unheard of. A man of your status speaking to a girl like me in broad daylight. Have you lost thought of your reputation? Must I really be the one to remind you of your status?"

His ears turned slightly red at their tips, "My reputation? How kind of you to care for that so I don't have to."

The frown on her face was an accident.

"I was teasing you," the nobleman sighed. "Alright, I'll go first. My name's Darius."

More silence.

"Alyce. My name's Alyce."

Darius broke into a beaming smile, the kind that could melt the ice covered pond in the middle of town. Then, he made a face as if he'd made a grievous mistake. "Stupid me, I've forgotten to ask if you'd like to become my friend. But before you answer, I'd like to tell you that I'm very much a charming person."

A friend. Alyce didn't have friends, the girls at the den were always at each other's throats vying for the highest paying client. "Why are you being so kind to me?"

"Why shouldn't I be kind to you?"

"Because of what I am," her tattered red dress dragged in the street's slick muck. "Nobody is kind to girls like me unless they want something. I'll give you whatever you want."

Darius paused as he walked, his eyebrows creased together. Up ahead, several Carthyan guards spoke to a young man. Darius placed his hands on Alyce's shoulders, "I do want something from you."

Her heart sank.

Darius wasn't different from the other men who sought her out.

"Yes?"

"I would like to see you again," Darius smiled, standing up straighter. "I'll come find you tomorrow at midday, will you be at the same place?"

She nodded, and began to slide the cloak off of her shoulders. Darius, however, stopped her. He pressed several garlins into her hand, "Keep the cloak, and the garlins. I have more than what I know what to do with. No. no, I don't want anything more from you than to see you tomorrow Alyce."

Money.

Her own coins free from the grimey stick her coins from the den were.

"Thank you."

"Until tomorrow then?" Darius said, he was taking steps away. The Carthyan guards were pushing through the busy street towards them.

"Until tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

The nights were always the worst. Men flocked in by the dozen because they were lonely. They wanted somebody else to keep them warm and treat them like a lord.

Alyce hid the cloak Darius had given her behind her tiny wooden cot. She only ever used the cot when her services weren't needed. The crisp garlins she'd received were stashed safely out of reach in a hole in Drylliad's castle wall. The coins were too clean to be kept in the den. The den was always smokey and always filled with sin.

She hugged herself and rubbed her arms to keep out the bone-biting cold. There was no way she could use the new cloak and not lose it. The other girls in the den were ruthless to each other. Whoever was the den master's favorite received gifts and was treated like a legitimate human being rather than scum like the others. Alyce smiled at her bare feet. Tomorrow she would see Darius. He would ask her to spend the night with him, but he had given her a cloak, and that was enough.

Her wiry dark hair hung like a shadow from her head. Alyce began to pick her fingers through it. She always reminded herself how lucky she was that she'd been able to keep her hair. Many of the other girls who'd come to the den were already so desperate for money that they'd sheared off their locks and their dignity with it. The room, it was more of a closet, where Alyce slept gave her the privacy to find a shred of happiness. Girls like her weren't allowed to smile. Girls like her didn't deserve kindness from anybody.

But suddenly, a young man equivalent to an angel gave her money without asking for her to bed with him. He'd given so freely. He'd smiled at her. Alyce found herself smiling too.

Darius had given her enough to leave. If she sold the cloak and kept the garlins she'd already been given, she could buy a room at an inn and beg to become a bar maid. She would leave in the young hours of the morning. Darius did not need to talk to her again. Alyce's mere presence would poison his reputation. It was settled. The inn just outside of Drylliad was always looking for more bar maids, or at least that's what several clients claimed. The saints were freeing Alyce from her little hell.

Somebody pounded at Alyce's door. The den master no doubt.

"I'm sorry," Alyce whispered as she stood and opened the tiny closet door.

Outside was not the den master, somebody much worse stood outside. The den master's current favorite; a sly fox. Madam sneered at Alyce, her face the shade of yellowing milk and her lips as red as the blood of a plague victim. "Get up girl."

"Yes, Madam."

"A new girl comes looking for work, you are to help her, and by the end of the night, we will have another whore dragging in garlins."

"Yes, Madam."

Alyce kept her eyes down as she followed Madam through the den. Incense was already burning even though sunset was still at least an hour away. Stolen luxuries decorated the den, allowing for the clients to believe that where they were was a place of wealth. Alyce didn't like the constantly lit sconces. They reminded her of her home. Alyce reminded herself that she had no home. There was nothing for her save for the den.

And then she remembered the cloak and garlins.

She had a _future_.

"What is your name girl?" Madam croaked at the second young girl before her. Alyce pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she coughed waiting for the girl's answer.

The girl inhaled. She had pride where there was none. Her black curls sprung gracefully. Alyce wondered what she had been before she came to the den looking for work. Perhaps a Lord's daughter fallen upon hard times. Not even the noble could run from debts. The girl lifted her chin, "I am Saren, my father said that I would find work here."

"Yes, you will find work. From now on, you are to go by Sar," Madam frowned. "Alyce will show you around the den. You will be bartered off before the night is over. You will have your money."

Bartered off. Bought and sold like property. Saren's stoic posture dropped the second she realized that she was to be treated as cattle for the rest of her life, which- if she lasted as long as the others- wouldn't last for longer than four years at most. Something stirred in Alyce's heart. She told herself that her heart was confused, but Alyce knew what she was feeling. The emotion had been dead for so long she didn't know she could still feel anymore.

"Come with me," Alyce said quietly. "I will show you where you are to stay."

"Who are you?" Saren asked as she followed through the den.

"I am Alyce."

"Why are you here Alyce? I came here because I couldn't bear to see my sisters suffer, my father was injured in a skirmish with the pirates from Avenia. I receive more money here than I would as a barmaid."

"But as a barmaid, you would have yourself."

"What do you mean?"

Alyce gestured to the wooden cots in the very back room, Saren would stay in the cot at the very end farthest from the fire, as did all new girls. The closet Alyce slept in came because she'd toiled away for nearly three years. Alyce coughed into her hand and grabbed her crimson skirts. "When you become like me, you are owned by everyone. I am nothing without Madam and the den master."

"I don't mind becoming nothing if it keeps my sisters comfortable."

Comfortable.

How long had it been since Alyce was truly comfortable?

"Alyce?"

"Yes?"

"Will you be my friend here? Can you call me by my true name? I can't forget who I am."

A friend. Alyce didn't have very many of those. She'd long since forgotten who she was.

"Yes, I will be your friend, Saren."

Alyce had made two friends in less than a day.

Perhaps the saints did remember all.


	3. Chapter 3

The night rained down strange feelings inside Alyce. No matter how hard she tried to say that she could feel nothing, her heart could not stop blazing.

"That is the man," Saren said sadly as she looked out on the den's parlor beside Alyce. "He will buy me tonight, I am sure of it."

"He looks kind." Alyce said, her shoulders curling over.

"I'm afraid."

"Don't be. You're my friend. Tomorrow during the day, we will go to the market."

"I'm going to forget who I am, aren't I?"

Alyce closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around herself. She coughed into the crook of her elbow. The inferno in her heart would not stop blazing. Saren was new. Saren was clean. Alyce was weary. Alyce was tainted.

Years and years ago, there had been a kind old man at a church. The memory was so distant, Alyce wasn't sure if it had actually happened. Many of the things she could happily remember were either dreams or from ages ago when she'd had a family. There wasn't much else to remember aside from what the old man looked like and the building he was at. Stained glass windows depicting heavenly lords and ladies helping those lesser than them. That old man had claimed that anybody could become a saint. Everybody had value.

Though Alyce wasn't sure if she and the other girls held any value.

She could not allow another girl to wallow in misery like herself.

"I have something for you, if we go quietly and quickly, you may see it before Madam comes to find you," Alyce said quietly. She took Saren by the wrist.

"Will I get in trouble?" Saren squeaked.

"No, if you are brave, you won't have to stay here for much longer."

Firmly, Alyce tugged her new friend through the den and over to her small closet. The cloak sat nestled behind Alyce's wooden cot. The fire in Alyce's heart was counteracted by something green, bitter, and hateful. The cloak belonged to Alyce. It was the one good thing she'd received in years.

"Take this," Alyce said, shoving the expensive cloak into Saren's crossed arms. "You must sell it. There is an inn looking for a barmaid. Tomorrow I will be with a nobleman. He will listen to me, and your father will work for him."

"Alyce... I can't take this from you."

"No, you must. The cloak is yours now." The fire blazed even brighter. "I have garlins hidden in a loose spot in the city wall near the river's gate. Take those too. I have no use for them."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I don't know," Alyce confessed. "You're clean. You don't belong here."

"But-"

"Go away, you can leave through the window. Go now, or Madam will find you and neither of us will be able to own that cloak."

The bitter monster trying to steal back the cloak was defeated the second Saren broke into a disbelieving smile. Alyce wondered what would've happened if somebody had granted her a way to escape from the den. There was no hope left in Alyce. She coughed into the back of her hand, and wiped it against her crimson skirt.

"You've put all other friends I've ever had to shame," Saren whispered. She threw her arms around Alyce, her tears dampened Alyce's dull hair.

"You are one of the only friends I have ever had."

Saren escaped through the room's glass window, and gave Alyce a final wave before she vanished into the night. Envy. That's what Alyce felt now rather than the thrills of charity. Why hadn't anybody given away a nobleman's cloak and several garlins to her? She was young and unafraid before, but now she was timid and used. Alyce was nothing. There were many curses pulsing through Alyce's heart as she thought of the warm cloak and her garlins belonging to somebody else. Those curses all faded a way the second she realized that Saren would never have to feel the same way Alyce felt each passing moment.

Was it worth it to sacrifice her dreams of escape so someone else wouldn't have to share the same dream?

Madam was not happy when Alyce came back and told her that Saren had run away. Fury threaded through her painted cheeks. Alyce grimaced within herself, the paint Madam wore did not make her more beautiful. Painted faces were frightening, but then again, Madam was a terrifying person herself.

"You will take Sar's place," Madam ordered.

"Yes, Madam."

"Do not share your name, and do not linger. Do not allow the client to see your face. Do not cough before the client, or he will think you are sick, and we will lose money."

"Yes, Madam."

However, the second Madam turned away, Alyce slipped behind the sanctuary of a wall. Emotion. Emotion was pulsing through her. While she'd set Saren free from the worst kind of fate, Alyce had only succeeded in dooming herself. She coughed into her hand, and didn't dare look at her palm. Alyce reasoned that it was better for Saren to have taken the cloak and garlins, she had time and use for them. If given the chance to escape, Alyce was certain she'd only cower and back away. What was left for her? Who would care for her?

Alyce coughed into her hand again, and realized that soon she would be taken care of. She wiped the bloody spittle on her crimson skirt and gathered the tiny shreds of dignity she had left. Her client was waiting for her, and tomorrow, she would see Darius again.

She didn't need to worry about who would care for her. The blood on her hand confirmed that.

Alyce would soon find comfort in Death's arms.


End file.
